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The Asylum (Creepypasta)
In 1976, there was a giant old mansion on the outskirts of our town in Florida. It had been converted into a mental asylum with a horrific tone to it. Now, it's been abandoned for quite some time now, ever since 1986. Since then, no one was aware of the danger lurking in the basement, next to the sewers. Now, I wouldn't recommend ever going into that building. It was June 13, 2019 and I had just turned 30 years old. My friends and I heard about the abandoned asylum that was named "The Baybanks Asylum", where mentally unstable patients went to get treatment for their various illnesses. What drew my attention was learning the news that some of them went in and never came back out. We assumed they had died somehow, but no one knew how it happened. It wasn't until I gathered information from various former employees that I learned a lot more. For the sake of their privacy, I won't be giving their real names, but I'll reveal that most, if not all, of the staff I knew, were men. The first guy I interviewed was a 55-year-old man who worked at the asylum ever since 1978, a year after its conversion from a mansion to an asylum. We'll call him Scott. Scott had told me that many of the patients had become so aggressive that they had to be moved into the basement area, but that was when it hit him that doing so was a mistake. Checking on them every now and then, he was mortified to find their bodies brutally ripped apart. "I was horrified when I discovered the horrific mutilations", he told me. "Many of their limbs, torsos and even heads were ripped open with some pieces of their bodies even missing". Based on the description he was giving me, it sounded like some scary shit was going down in that basement. Scott also described some low growling and hissing noises that reminded him of an alligator or a crocodile. I asked him, "Were there any crocodyliforms living in the sewers?" He told me he only heard what sounded like a crocodilian. Maybe he had misheard some other noise he had mistaken for that of an alligator. Maybe he heard a loud burping or sniffing patient that only sounded like a gator, and mistook them for a real one. Or maybe he heard a stomach growling and thought it was from a crocodile. I thanked him for taking the time to speak to me before I moved on to find someone else to talk to. The next guy I spoke to was a 40-year-old man who we'll call William. William was nowhere near as experienced as Scott, but the two apparently worked together at the time they met and made close friends. "I was grateful when I got out of there alive every day", William told me. I was concerned at this point. "What do you mean, sir?" I asked him. "I never wanted to go into those foul-smelling sewers, but I didn't think it could get any worse than what smelled like a pile of mutilated bodies. I hated the smell", he responded. I then asked him, "Did you hear any crocodile-like noises, and were any of the patients still alive there?" He nodded. "Yes. I heard some noises that sounded a little like an alligator or crocodile, like growling and hissing. I also found one patient who was still alive and he ran out of the basement and past me, screaming he didn't like it." William then said, "I tried to catch him, but he was already long-gone." I understood the fear that patient must have felt as he was running out of the sewers and didn't want to go back in. I thanked William for his time before moving on. I eventually decided I would ask one of the former patients who was let out and now had stable mental condition. I found a man we'll call Jeremy. "I was never put into those rigged sewers", he told me. "I did, however, find out that a bunch of patients wanted to escape but never got the opportunity to." I asked him, "Did you ever go exploring in the sewers?" He nodded. "I did go into the sewers at one time with a friend, and found a large black room with a dingy old bulb that barely lit anything up." I asked him, "What else was inside the room?" He responded, "It was mostly empty. All I remember was that there was water on the ground, about knee-deep. It was gross, disgusting and smelled like deer pee. Then I...I..." I frowned in concern. Jeremy resumed; "I heard something behind me. I turned around and screamed as loud as I have ever screamed in my life." I asked him what was there. "It was a crocodile, alligator, or some kind of reptilian creature. It was huge, had a lot of green scales with black spikes, mean red eyes, and huge, sharp teeth showing from both jaws of its long, V-shaped mouth." I was about to ask him a question when he resumed his story. "It then roared a loud, vicious roar and lunged forward at me. I ran as fast as I could, screaming and trying to find my way back out of the sewers. It then grabbed a hold of my leg with its teeth and tried pulling me closer to it. I kicked at it and it finally let go. My friend swung the door open and I launched out just before the reptile could get me again." Hearing this story, I was shocked and disturbed by what was going on in there. I asked him if he saw any bodies in the room with this crocodile. He told me he saw one body in front of it, all ripped up and brutally torn down to the skeleton. With that, he also told me that he and his friend were happy to escape the sewers alive. After getting many mental treatments, he and his friend were both released. Unnerved, I decided I would find another person who had previous connections with the asylum. Maybe another one of the employees. It took me a while to find someone else who was willing to spit some words out to me. Most of them were either too busy or simply didn't wanna give an interview. A few said various profanities as well. I didn't know if they were angry that I had learned about the murders in the asylum's sewers, or if they will afraid of what might happen should they tell me. After some time, I finally found someone who was willing to tell me about his experiences of working at the asylum. We'll call him Robert, and he worked as a janitor at the asylum back when it was still running. However, he had moved to a different town since the asylum closed years ago, so we sent each other emails. He told me he was assigned to the Sewers' Wing to clean stuff up and was always plagued by the sight of mutilated bodies, the foul smell, scratches on the walls, and waist-deep water where he hated standing, but most often had to. He then cracked that his dad was once the head of the asylum before he retired at the age of 64. I quickly wrote a reply, asking if his father ever knew of a large, empty room in the sewers and people being killed by some large crocodile. He explained that he never knew of a crocodile in the sewers. In fact, he said that no animals were allowed on the property, and that he was instructed to set traps to keep animals like snakes, lizards and alligators out. His father was very strict about no pets being allowed as well, most likely due to any potential allergies people may have. Robert explained that perhaps the "crocodile" that Jeremy claimed had attacked him was probably just someone in a cheap-looking gator costume, that the room was kept barely lit so the people in there wouldn't realize it was fake, and that the scratches on the walls were possibly a result of fingernails scratching on them by accident. He had also actually been in there several times as well, and claimed to have seen nothing but people. That got me concerned. He then went on to explain that the sewer line was originally intended on being an extra maintenance hallway in the sewers, but was never finished because of budget cuts. He then explained that his dad simply allowed the area to go to waste, and filled it up with water to make it look like a sewer. He then noted that one particular person named Chris disappeared at the age of 19 and never appeared again. People complained about being attacked by the creature, he explained, and also stated that Chris was always a bit of a creep. That caused one more question to form in my mind. I asked him if Chris may have been wearing the "costume" he claimed it to be. Robert said he doubted it, and said that he may have been wrong. He never knew. I sent one last message thanking him for his time to speak to me. At that point, I tried to put together the information I had gained from employees and patients alike. As I did, I realized that people who were curious urban explorers went into a room in the sewers, that there was a crocodile (or possibly someone in a crocodile costume) that would attempt to attack them, and they would manage to escape before they could be killed. Some, however, weren't so lucky. There was only one thing left to do. I was gonna head inside the abandoned asylum and investigate these nasty sewers myself. I put on my swimming gear for toleration of foul-smelling sewer water and it took several minutes to get to the Baybanks Asylum. The front door was unlocked, which was lucky for me. I slowly pushed the door open and began to look inside. The inside was dark, old papers on the walls were tattered and torn, furniture toppled over, cobwebs everywhere, and waist-deep water in the basement. It looked like a scene in a horror movie. I walked into the overflowing sewer water and when I couldn't walk anymore, I swam. I swam around in the sewers, seeing a bunch of old and torn up photos and news articles on various bulletin boards. I wasn't focused on looking at that, though. I finally found that door that was said to lead to the dreaded room. The door was quite heavy and took me a fair amount of effort to pull the door open. Just as described, the room was dark and empty with knee-deep water and a dingy bulb. Said bulb was shattered and had been burnt out long ago, so I used an old table to prop the door open in order to see anything. I could see a lot of faded blood stains on the walls, but I couldn't tell who or what it belonged to. The blood seemed to have been the doing of a murder. I also found a bunch of skeletons of long-dead patients and humans alike with rats and spiders all over them sitting in broken chairs in the corners of the room. It was disturbing to say the least. I also found deep claw marks on the walls. As I continued examination, I heard a low growling sound coming from right outside the door, around the corner into the dark hallway. I didn't dare walk out there, but at this point, it was too dark to see anything. I pulled out my flashlight and turned it on. As I dreaded stepping out of the room, I checked around both corners to see if anything was there. Nothing was around either corner. As I walked out of the room, I heard roaring coming from down the hall, by the stairs. I flashed my light in that direction, but nothing was there. I decided it was time to go. As I made my way out the asylum and to my car, there was one aspect about those claw marks that made me tremble in terror. Since when do crocodiles and alligators walk on two legs? Category:Crocodilian Category:Alligator Category:Killers Category:Monsters Category:Unseen creatures Category:Unseen characters Category:Mutants Category:Dangerous Category:Aggressive Category:Psychopath Category:Creepypasta Category:Former Humans Category:Sewers Category:Asylum Category:Mentally Ill Category:Undead Category:Monster Hunters Category:Tyrants Category:Mutant Crocodile/Alligator